Overdrive
by Luss
Summary: Jason's biology is a fucking mess about to come crashing down in flames. Be it the pit, the excesive intake of suppressants or his own faulty body, doesn't matter which is the ultimate culprit, the only thing that matters is that he's straining at the seams trying remain himself. However, when his body breaks down, will he be able to accept that not every alpha is out to chain him


One could hope dying once would kill enough of his fucking biology to at least redeem him sterile. One fucking perk! Was that so much to ask for?

Another wave of pain racked his lower abdomen, and made him grunt at the same time his fist punched in the skull of the last low ranking drug dealer who had tried to play funny with the omega workers of crime alley. At least the satisfying crack of bone breaking, was somewhat rewarding in the face of the last fucking shit in Jason's life.

Finally, the guy fell to the ground among his other four peers, unconscious and looking at a few months worth of rehabilitation with as many fractures as Hood had inflicted.

Just a warning really.

These ones had been terrorizing the omega workers if his territory for an abusive percentage of their earnings, but not real damage whatsoever. Only reason they were getting out alive, should they make a second attempt they would be arriving at the hospital inside a plastic bag.

And damn, now that the fight was over, the symptoms were making themselves better known, overpowering the adrenaline and battle rage to make his whole body ache, and the air inside the helmet seem oppressive, no matter the filtration system installed.

Fuck his freaking life.

He toyed with the idea of taking out his stash from one of the discrete pockets on his leather jacket, and downing at least two tablets of suppressants dry. However, much the Bats liked to accuse Jason of lacking any self-survival instincts whatsoever, he wasn't really into endeavors which could potentially cripple him for life… or plunge him into madness as was the case, at least not when there were not criminal organizations involved.

He had already surpassed the supposedly safe limit of three months suppressed heaths around nine months ago, toeing the line of the possible consequences, such as infertility, seizures, and his favorite, heat denial mental breakdown with all the perfect care of a bullhead.

Yet, however a pro he was at denying his own bodily urges, this time his pre-symptoms were getting so noticeable even in the very early stage he was supposed to be at, Jason knew he had pushed too damn far.

So screw his fucking "work", but Red Hood would have to trust matters into his second hand man for a week or so worth of stuffing himself with fake cock.

Roy better take care of the gang war brewing between the new drug Lord trying to ascertain his position in the docks, and the old Guy not so happy with a newbie taking a chunk of his particular cake.

Hood had been keeping the hostilities out of the streets, by means of demonstrating quite "clearly" what happened to those who started a gunfight in a place where innocent people could get shot. But… When the cat isn't home, mouses get to play.

So yeah, better make the situation crystal clear. Not that he didn't trust the beta, as he was one of the very few he considered friends and a lethal sniper with a bow, but, the redhead could be easily distracted from duty by… Well, many things really.

He got out of the small smelly alley they had been at, and marched down the darkened streets in search of his motorbike, signaling the calling feature of his helmet, rabidly aware of the sweat dampening his hair and skin, beneath metal, cotton, kevlar and leather, and the pain radiating from his lower abdomen to slowly cramp its way up his back, and down the muscles of his thighs.

The kevlar chafed against his chest, further irritating Jason as he called Roy, his niples getting so sensitive now, that he knew soon he would start getting wet in ways he would much rather not experience outside his safest hideout.

-What the.. Jay, it's four of the fucking morning.- answered a somewhat groggy male voice, raspy from sleep and irritation.

-And hello to you too sunshine.-Jason smiled crookedly, satisfied at least he wasn't the only one bearing a shitty night.

-I hope you know I really hate you.- Roy huffed, but his words held no reall heat, and his voice had started to pitch barely into the octave Jason knew meant his friend was actually worried- It's something the matter?

Better not to beat around the bush.

-Listen,- he cut, serious- I will have to take a few days off, maybe a week, Could you keep an eye in my territory until I get back?-

There was some more scuffing on the phone that meant the redhead must be getting out of bed.

-Are you hurt? Do you need my help?-Roy asked, all grogginess having fled his words, replaced by the sharp clarity the sniper was known for.

And dam if the beta's strong and matter of fact tone didn't go straight through Jason's spine, making him shiver just a hair. He was really, really fucked, if such a nimious stimuli could affect him.

-No. - He gritted his teeth, frustrated with his own flawed biology.- Everything's peachy, just need a few days for some "joyful" time.- Jason nearly hissed, because yea, really, TV advertisements and soap operas could praise the ever loving fuck out of being and omega, and experiencing great world shattering heats all they wanted, but any self-conscious one out there would tell you it was all bullshit.

No orgasm, great it might be, could compensate for the very real threat of losing one's liberty. Heats made omegas too vulnerable, easy prey for forced bonding to happen, and justice didn't protect the victims all it should, no matter what self entitled alfas wished to sprout.

Another failure in the system. Another reason expeditious intervention was needed.

-Man, that's awful. - God bless Harper for his sharp mind, catching everything with just those few words- Are you stashed for the time being? I could run a few errands and drop them at your safest in thirty. - He offered.

-No need, I'm all set, - Jason declined with a barely there huff of ill hidden warm at the beta´s aptitude- just take care of my rounds. The usual, nothing too much; The drug dealers I told you about, remember to keep an eye on them, let's they decide come out to play, but yeah, that's that.

-Ok, don't worry. Call if you need anything, you heard me? - Such a mother hen.

Jason huffed affectionately.

-Yeah, you worrywart, see you next week.

The call disconnected just when he finally arrived at the darkened corner where his motorbike waited, throwing his leg over the sleek metal frame to straddle it….

The sudden rush of having something big and hard, stashed between his thighs, short circuited his nerves like lighting, arching his back and dragging a breathy groan through his throat, his chuckles becoming white around the handlebars during the second it took for the Red Hood to reign himself in line with a few colorful curses.

Furious at himself, the vigilant speed down the street like fire was at his heels.


End file.
